


Proverbs 31:16-17

by cheble_king



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21720091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheble_king/pseuds/cheble_king
Summary: "She considers a field and buys it; with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard. She dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong."
Relationships: Thane Krios/Female Shepard
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Proverbs 31:16-17

Fire in her eyes, blood on her face, and angry red scars. She stands defiant over the body of an asari, and her spirit sings out for anger.

The woman turns to face him, finally, and he can see the red-glow of her scars shining bright through the dim office, the hard set of her jaw and the way she appraises him without judgement, without the xenophobia he is so accustomed to.

Whether that is a byproduct from the two nonhumans standing by her side or inherently learned, he cannot say for sure.

"You are Thane Krios."

Her words are not a question, nor rhetoric in their cadence - it is a statement, a fact, something irrefutable because he can be no other than himself, or her work would be all for naught.

He knows then, in that moment, that lying to this woman, this _siha_ , would be pointless and a waste of both their time - what need of lies does he have, when her mixmatched eyes pierce so easily into the truth?

"I am Thane Krios."

"You will accompany me to my ship, the Normandy."

"Yes."

She nods, decisive, before turning her heel and leaving the bodies behind, not caring or unaware of the asari blood that coats the feet of her armor - in less than twenty words, she had him following her movements with resolute dedication.

She did not stop to check if he was injured, did not stop to staunch the heavy bleeding from her twice-broken nose - singleminded, she led him back to the ship, save for the single moment wherein she gave a starving quarian child one hundred credits and a nod.

This was not remarked upon by her teammates - a salarian with too wide eyes and a turian with extensive scarring - and for that she seemed pleased, never acknowledging her own kindness, only being selfless when she was assured no one was paying attention.

* * *

The Normandy was an impressive ship, large enough to house a small army and then some, but the vessel's true pride resided in the ship's A.I., a device affectionately dubbed 'EDI'. 

Kepral's rises in his throat as they pass through the mess hall, the moisture of human consumption poisoning his lungs in levo-based delicacy; Dionysus's maenads confined to a single pot of gumbo.

"You will meet me in my quarters after dinner, Thane Krios."

Another command from the woman, who's name evades his eidetic memory in maddening ways - he could not remember if she had even bothered to tell him in the first place.

Perhaps she would make her name known to him in her quarters, abreast threats of bodily harm and speeches full of stress.

Perhaps she would not tell him at all, and she would be true siha, nameless but abundant in power and heart.

Or, perhaps he would learn it now, from the mouth of a quarian who's mask shook from the intensity of her words, eyes shining like hanar colors in the haze of her illithic mask.

"Shepard! You were gone for so long, I was worried! Did you collect whatever it was you were looking for?"

Shepard - a last name, oddly befitting for one such as her. Fierce in her protection of her flock, gentle in the caring for them.

"In a way. I will tell you later, for now, I will be in my quarters."

A pause, before those bloody eyes fixate themselves back on the lone drell in their mist, ferocious and devouring.

"You _will_ meet me in my quarters after dinner."

"Yes."

"Good. Eat without me, Tali'Zorah - Gardner has better ingredients now."

"I will, Shepard."

"Good."

She leaves without fanfare or pomp, and Thane is left with a hungry quarian and too much time on his hands.


End file.
